


Not an Ideal Walk in the Park

by justspn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Dean Winchester, Day in a park, Food Poisoning, High school aged Winchesters, John isn't an ass, Poor Sam, Pre-Series Dean Winchester, Pre-Series Sam Winchester, Sam throws up, Sick Sam Winchester, Sickfic, Waiting for John to finish a hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:26:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26417155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justspn/pseuds/justspn
Summary: “What’s going on?” Dean got up and moved around to the other side of the picnic table so that he could be closer to his brother. He really wasn’t looking well.“My stomach is cramping all of a sudden,” Sam responded, straightening up where he was sitting to try and relieve some pressure in his abdomen. After a second he let out a tremendous burp.Dean scoffed. “Oh, that was the problem, I see.”
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	Not an Ideal Walk in the Park

Dean trekked across the open field of the state park to an open picnic table. He could hear Sam dragging his feet behind him and he smirked as he imagined the look on Sam’s face. They were waiting for John to finish collecting info on the latest case and he thought they might enjoy a day at the lake. Of course, that meant they had to wake up before dawn, and Sam was severely allergic to early mornings. 

“Here we go,” Dean said as he slung his backpack onto the table. Sam grunted and sat down on the opposite side, immediately resting his head on his arms. “Pretty busy today, isn’t it?” Dean asked, figuring he wouldn’t get a response. He could count two people in the whole campground who were even awake and moving around. Sitting down, Dean unzipped his backpack and pulled out a cheesy murder mystery he had snagged at the grocery store a few hunts back. He hadn’t had a chance to read it yet and was, though he would deny it if asked, kind of excited to have a day to just soak up the summer sun and read a book. 

After a bit Sam finally picked his head up. Dean glanced up at him and bit back a laugh-- he had sleep lines in his forehead and his hair was a trainwreck. “You ready for breakfast?” 

Sam yawned. “Yeah, I guess. What did you pack?” 

“You were literally standing right next to me when I put it in the lunchbox,” Dean said as he put a leaf in his book to mark his page. 

“I was barely awake when that happened. Definitely wasn’t listening to you pack the food,” Sam said, yawning again. 

Dean smiled to himself and unzipped the lunchbox, rummaging around to find their breakfast. “It’s make your own parfait day, Sammy.” Dean tossed a small bag of granola and a plastic cup of fruit at his brother. “And I know you don’t like regular yogurt so I bought you one from Greece,” Dean said, sliding a yogurt cup across the table. 

Sam smiled at Dean, ripping open the lid of the yogurt. “I appreciate it, Dean.” He poured some granola and fruit into his yogurt and stirred it together. 

Dean made his own parfait, mentally patting himself on the back for coming up with the idea of having a picnic breakfast like this. They didn’t get the opportunity to do this kind of stuff very often, and Dean wanted to give Sam a break from the constant demands of living with John. 

They ate in the peace and quiet, both of them soaking up the early morning sun and the view of the lake and surrounding mountains. After they had both finished eating it was several minutes before Sam spoke. Well, groaned was more like it. Dean glanced over at him. He looked a little pale and his eyes were screwed shut like he was in pain. 

“You alright Sammy?” Dean asked, concern quickly flooding his stomach. 

Sam nodded but didn’t look convinced. 

“What’s going on?” Dean got up and moved around to the other side of the picnic table so that he could be closer to his brother. He really wasn’t looking well.

“My stomach’s cramping all of a sudden,” Sam responded, straightening up where he was sitting to try and relieve some pressure in his abdomen. After a second he let out a tremendous burp. 

Dean scoffed. “Oh, that was the problem, I see.” He patted Sam on the back like how you would burp a baby before getting up to go back to his side of the picnic table. “Feel better now?” 

“Not really. Although it doesn’t hurt anymore.” Sam slumped back over onto the picnic table. 

Dean frowned. “Why don’t you go lie down in the backseat of the Impala for a bit? Try and catch up on some sleep from waking up so early,” Dean suggested. He knew that if Sam didn’t sleep enough he usually felt nauseous until he got his full eight hours in via a nap later in the day.

“Yeah, I think I will,” Sam agreed, slowly standing up. He grabbed the keys from Dean and started his way across the big field to the parking lot on the treeline. 

“Make sure to crack a window so you don’t suffocate!” Dean called after him. Sam waved, signaling that he heard Dean’s warning but didn’t turn around. 

Dean watched him walk away until he disappeared into the trees. Sighing, he took out his book again and let himself get sucked into it. 

XXXXX

Hours later, Dean looked up from his book when he heard a strange belching noise approaching his table. It was Sam, much paler than he had been earlier, with a hand over his mouth. 

“You okay?” Dean asked, standing up. He could tell that Sam was, in fact, not okay. 

Sam shook his head. “Gonna throw up,” he choked out, tossing the keys in Dean’s direction before jogging the last few steps between Dean and the woods behind their table. Dean winced and dug through his bag for a bottle of water as he listened to Sam lose his breakfast in the bushes on the edge of the woods. 

“Here, rinse your mouth out with this,” Dean said as he handed over the water. Sam was hunched over, hands on his knees, trying not to dry heave. He was shaking like a leaf and all the color had drained from his face. He grabbed the water from Dean and stood up, swaying slightly. Dean reached out a hand and grabbed onto Sam’s arm to steady him. 

Sam leaned into Dean and took a sip of water, swished it around, and then spit it into the woods with the rest of his breakfast. He could tell he had snot running down his face but he didn’t have the energy or any tissues to wipe it away. 

“Let’s get you sitting down and I’ll get you some toilet paper from the outhouse, okay?” Dean led Sam over to the picnic table where he flopped himself down on the grass. He groaned again and leaned on his knees, shaking violently as a wave of nausea rolled over him again. 

Dean jogged to the outhouse and grabbed a big wad of toilet paper. He handed a chunk of it to Sam, who blew his nose loudly. “What else do you need?”

“Ugh,” Sam groaned, “to not feel like shit.” He laid back on the grass, his eyes closed. 

“I can’t help ya there, but I can go get a blanket from the car if you want something to lie on,” Dean offered. 

Sam nodded, his face scrunching up as another cramp hit him. 

Dean hustled over to the car and dug around in the trunk for a blanket. He also found a beach towel, so he brought that too, to use a pillow or to cover Sam’s sasquatch legs. On the way back he caught a few stares from the people who were milling about now that the sun was higher in the sky. He smiled and nodded to a few of them, and thankfully no one said anything about his sickly brother. He didn’t feel much like explaining why Sam was puking his guts up and why they didn’t just get in the car and go home. 

“Here, lie on this, it’ll keep the grass from making you itchy,” Dean said as he laid the blanket out next to where Sam was lying. Sam scooted himself over onto the blanket and curled up in the fetal position, moaning as he moved. “I found a towel too, to use as a pillow or to cover yourself with.” Dean could see the goosebumps on Sam’s arms and legs and wondered if the kid was that cold. It was already pushing 75 degrees, they didn’t pack any warmer layers to put on. 

Sam said nothing, just continued to whimper occasionally, so Dean made the decision to cover Sam with the towel. Having done all he could think to do until John returned from wherever the hell he had wandered off to, Dean sat back down at the picnic table and opened his book again. He couldn’t concentrate enough to read, so he just pretended while glancing around every few minutes. There was an older couple at a picnic table a ways away that were staring at Sam, probably just concerned about him, but Dean didn’t like the way they were being watched. 

XXXXX

Sam sat up suddenly, making Dean jump. Dean thought Sam had been sleeping, which he might have been, but he was very awake now. 

“You okay?” Dean asked, unsure of what else to say. 

Sam didn’t say anything as he stood up and walked into the woods behind the outhouse, out of the public’s watchful eye. Dean watched him go but didn’t follow, figuring that Sam would want to throw up in private. After a few minutes he came back to his blanket, shaking, nose running. Dean handed him more toilet paper and the water bottle. Sam cleaned up a little and then held his head in his hands. 

“Gonna make it?” Dean asked hesitantly. There really wasn’t anything else he could do for his brother until John got back. 

“Yeah,” Sam said, his voice hoarse. “Ugh, I need to sleep in a real bed and throw up in a real toilet.” 

“Did you just throw up again?” Dean asked, checking his watch. They’d been waiting on John for almost four hours already. He should be back any time. Hopefully. 

Sam nodded, sighing. 

“Did you feel sick this morning? Like, before we left?” 

“No, just after breakfast. I was tired this morning but not sick,” Sam answered, blowing his nose again. He sounded congested. 

“Huh. Maybe your yogurt from Greece was bad. Did it taste funny?”

“No, Dean, I wouldn’t have eaten it if it tasted like it was spoiled,” Sam snapped. 

“Right, course not.” Dean rolled his eyes, understanding where Sam’s sass was coming from but not liking it regardless. “Well, Dad should be back soon, then we can get you back to the motel to bed,” Dean said. 

“That sounds like heaven,” Sam responded, lying back down under his towel in the fetal position. 

XXXXX

About an hour later, John meandered across the field to find Sam curled up under a beach towel and no Dean anywhere to be seen. 

“Sammy? You okay?” John asked quietly, crouching down to check on his youngest son. 

Sam opened his eyes blearily, looking around. He relaxed when he saw it was just John. “Think I got food poisoning from breakfast,” Sam said, covering his eyes with one hand. He had a cranking headache and he still felt nauseous, though he hadn’t thrown up since the last time behind the outhouse. 

“Where’s your brother?” John asked, scouring the field for Dean.

“He went out in a kayak. I guess you can use them for free,” Sam answered. “He should be back soon, he said he’d only be gone for 20 minutes 15 minutes ago.”

John sat down at the picnic table and looked around, anxious to get Sam out of the sun and into a bed. “Have you been drinking enough?” John asked, eyeing the half full water bottle lying next to Sam.

“Been trying, but I can’t keep anything down yet,” Sam said, curling up again. He groaned under his breath as another cramp hit him. 

“How bad is it?” John asked.

“Not good.” Sam’s energy levels were dropping rapidly. 

John wondered if Sam would be able to walk all the way to the car. It was quite a ways to the treeline where it was parked. He didn’t get very far into planning how to maneuver Sam across the field when Dean showed up. 

“Hey, glad you’re back. Sam’s having a rough day,” Dean said as he zipped up his backpack. 

“I can see that. We should get him back to the motel.” 

Dean nodded and slung his bag over his shoulder. “Ready Sammy?”

Sam just groaned but stood up and immediately started walking to the car. Dean bunched up the blanket and the towel and John grabbed the water and they followed after him. Sam walked at a good clip all the way across the field, but when he got to the car he all but collapsed into the front seat. 

Dean packed himself into the back as John started up the Impala and they made their way out of the park. It was close to a 45 minute drive on windy dirt roads before they hit pavement, and it was obvious that Sam was miserable. He was curled up in the front seat with his eyes firmly shut. Dean waited anxiously for Sam to spew. He did a few minutes later. 

“Pull over,” Sam moaned, opening the car door before John had even put it in park. Sam got out and walked into the woods a few steps and leaned over, ready to be sick, but it never came out. He groaned in frustration, wishing he would just throw up and get it over with, but his stomach had other plans. After a minute he went back to the car and sat with his head between his knees.

“You okay?” Dean asked, ready to give Sam the water or some more tissues. 

“Would you stop asking me that?” Sam snapped. 

“Hey, he’s just looking out for you,” John said sternly. 

“I know but clearly I’m not okay, I’m sick of him asking me,” Sam retorted. He groaned as a wave of nausea rolled over him. “Let’s just go home.” 

“Aye aye captain,” John said, pulling out onto the road again. 

XXXXX

They made it back to the motel without further incident, but Sam bolted straight to the bathroom as soon as they parked. He stayed in there for a long while, but Dean didn’t dare check on him. After a bit he heard the shower running, which he figured was a good sign. 

“He needs to drink more water,” John said, pointing to the still half full bottle Dean had placed next to their bed. 

“It’s your turn to take care of him now, I’m done,” Dean snapped. He knew that Sam could be ungrateful when he was sick, but Dean was fed up with it. All he’d been doing was making sure the kid was going to make it through the day. 

“Dean, now’s not the time. Pull it together,” John sighed, running a hand over his tired face. 

Dean didn’t respond, but grabbed another water from his bag and placed it next to the one already on the table. He also dug out some tylenol and some pepto bismol in case Sam wanted either medicine. 

When Sam emerged from the shower he looked a little better. He crawled into bed immediately, but drank some water when Dean handed him the bottle. He also took a dose of pepto bismol, and fell asleep shortly after. 

“Thanks for watching out for him today. I know I was gone for a long time. I appreciate it,” John said quietly after Sam had been passed out for a solid 20 minutes. 

“The day I don’t watch out for him will be the day I die,” Dean responded just as quietly. He looked lovingly over his little brother’s sleeping form and smiled. There was no other role in life he was made for other than taking care of Sammy.


End file.
